Air Force Hero

by Parker, Weston

  “Damn straight.”

  “When are you going to fire Bella?”

  Jo groaned and pressed her face into her hands. “I don’t like letting people go, Rosie. I feel too guilty. I’ll let her go next week, in person. I have a bunch of paperwork I’ll have to do, and I just don’t have the energy for that right now. Just consider yourself victorious. She’ll be gone within the next seven days.”

  “Good,” Rosie said, lifting her chin. Her eyes wandered over to me as I finished my second beer. She didn’t say anything to me. She simply smiled. Then she walked out from behind the bar to look after a group of four who had just come in to eat.

  “It will start picking up now for dinner,” Jo said. “Are you still going to hang out for a bit? I enjoy the company.”

  “I don’t have anywhere to be,” I said.

  “Great. Another beer, then?”

  “Maybe water for now.”

  “Okay. Food menu?”

  I nodded, and she handed one to me. I opened it up and started flipping through it as the bar began filling up. Rosie worked as hostess and server, escorting people to their tables and then hurrying to Jo to order their drinks. Every time she made a drink and put the bottle of liquor back on the shelf, she would make sure the label was straight and facing outward. I liked her attention to detail. It satisfied my OCD tendencies immensely.

  I ordered a steak sandwich, which Jo told me was sublime, and watched her pour drinks for Rosie and then fill them up on a tray. As she worked, we chatted about nothing, laughed about everything, and left behind the awkwardness that had grown between us after our kiss.

  But I could still feel the velvet soft press of her lips on mine, and I could still taste her cherry chapstick. I was more than aware of the fact that this new memory would be haunting me for weeks to come, maybe longer.

  I reflected back on my mother’s advice. I needed to be patient. Kissing the girl I wanted to be mine would do no good when she was with another man. Especially when the girl was as loyal and honest as Jo. I’d put her in a tight spot. She regretted her decision to indulge in a kiss, that much was clear, but I also suspected she regretted how good it had felt.

  Because there was no way I was the only one who felt the air around us become charged with electricity as soon as our lips touched.

  No fucking way.

  16

  Josephine

  Zachary Flynn was going to be staying in Houston for good. He’d told me the news over an hour ago, and it was still all I could think about. Even while I was pouring shots and mixing martinis, my brain was focused on one thing: he was always going to be around now.

  For the first time in a long time, I felt whole. My body was lighter, and there was a smile on my face that I couldn’t shake no matter how hard I tried. How a man I barely knew was capable of having such an effect on me, I had no idea. But he did. And he was going to be around much more often.

  Things were going to change.

  Rosie was leaning over the bar and chatting with Zach. She was being playful, as was her nature, and Zach was keeping up with her need for silliness by throwing her jokes right back at her. Her laughter was bright and bubbly, and his was warm and deep, and the sound of it cut through all the other noise in the pub and echoed in my ears.

  I was certain I could listen to him laugh for hours upon hours and never get tired of it.

  I offered Zach another beer, and he shook his head. He was the polar opposite of Brett. If my boyfriend had been sitting at my bar, he would already be six or so drinks in. It took him about ten beers before he started showing signs of his drunken idiocy. And once he hit that point, there was no slowing him down—not until he passed out and was facedown on the bar, our bed, or the kitchen table.

  I chewed the inside of my cheek as my brain worked through all the feelings raging inside me. Zach’s news had me thinking about the future and considering what I actually wanted for myself for the first time in five years. Everything had been all about Sam, as it should have been, but I was starting to think that maybe Sam would be better off if Brett wasn’t around.

  I’d been successful at keeping the drunk and mean side of Brett away from my son, but I wasn’t stupid. It was only a matter of time before Sam saw what was happening and started picking up on the unhealthy dynamic.

  I should have kicked Brett to the curb years ago. As soon as the first red flags started popping up, it should have been over between us.

  But I wasn’t capable of telling people no anymore. Back before I left the Coast Guard, my favorite quality about myself was my ability to stand my ground. I didn’t shy away from confrontation. I didn’t seek it out, but if it found me, I didn’t shy away, either. I wasn’t afraid of anyone. I was fierce and strong and full of fire.

  Now, I was weak. I let Brett bulldoze me on a daily basis. I catered to his needs and convinced myself that I was being selfish by wanting more than what he could offer me. When realistically, all I wanted was someone who respected me and someone who wanted to be part of my son’s life.

  Maybe Zach could be that someone.

  I shook my head. Girl, what has gotten into you? This train of thinking was only going to lead me to a steaming pile of hurt—and fast. Zach probably didn’t want the same things. There was no way his thoughts were heading in the same direction as mine.

  It was only a kiss. Not a proposal. Life is not a movie, you silly girl. It’s never as simple as that.

  I glanced up at Zach as I did a quick wipe down behind the bar. He had engaged in conversation with the couple sitting beside him. He was smiling and nodding as they told him something he found humorous. His eyes were warm and bright, and his body language was open and inviting. He was the kind of man I had wanted Sam to look up to.

  And he was his father.

  As I watched him move and talk, I found myself aching to kiss him again. I wanted to feel the warmth of his hands on my body. I longed for him to gather me up in his arms and hold me to him with such passion that I believed he would never let go.

  “If you want better, you have to leave Brett,” I muttered to myself as I used the blender to make a margarita. No one could hear me over the crushing of ice inside, and speaking the words aloud was incredibly satisfying. I knew what had to be done. I’d known for a long time. Unfortunately, it took someone from my past coming back and reminding me how much better things could be to light a fire under my ass to make a change.

  I owed Sam an apology.

  As I poured the blended red margarita into a glass, I saw Ryan come in through the saloon doors. Rosie beamed up at him as he passed her at the hostess station, but he walked right past her. His face was screwed up with anger, and it had been a long time since I saw my brother looking that way. His shoulders were tense, and his fists were clenched at his sides.

  I passed the margarita off to one of my other servers and asked her to bring it to the young woman at the end of the bar. Then I went to meet Ryan on the other side of the bar, but he had moved too quickly. He was already behind the bar, and he closed the space between us in two long strides. He grabbed my elbow and pulled me out of earshot from the customers sitting at the bar. He dropped his head to speak quietly to me and quickly glanced over his shoulder. He spotted Zach, who was now focused on us.

  “What’s the matter?” I asked, my stomach flipping over nervously. “Is Sam okay? Where is he?”

  “Everything is fine,” he said hurriedly.

  “Okay, Ryan, just tell me what’s going on,” I said, studying the hard lines of my brother’s face.

  He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Brett came by to pick Sam up at noon like he was supposed to. But he was completely shitfaced, Jo. Like falling down drunk kind of shitfaced, and he tried to force Sam to leave with him.”

  I thought I was going to be sick. My stomach flipped over again, and I pressed a hand to my chest. “What?”

  Ryan nodded and rested a hand lightly on my shoulder. “Everything is fine. Sam is f
ine. I didn’t let Brett into my place.”

  “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?”

  Had Ryan not been so pissed, he might have laughed at my question. “No. He tried to fight me, but he could barely stay on his feet. I had to take the truck keys off of him because he tried to drive home. I called him a cab and sent him away. Jo… this shit is getting serious now. And I know you can handle yourself and all, but I can’t sit by anymore. Not when he’s going to jeopardize you or Sam.”

  “Who’s Sam?”

  My eyes widened as I heard Zach ask the question from where he sat at the bar. I looked up at Ryan, panicked, who clenched his jaw and waited to see if I was going to answer the question. My voice was lost. I couldn’t believe this was how Zach was going to find out I had a child. Ryan’s shoulders slumped a little, and he looked at Zach. “Sam is Jo’s son.”

  Zach’s expression remained completely neutral, but his eyes slid slowly to me.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t explain any of this right now. I have to deal with this. Fuck.” I pressed my hands to each temple and tried to sort out what move I should make first. “Where is Sam now?”

  “I dropped him off at home on my way here. Brett has sobered up, and Sam is playing with his chem set in his room.”

  I stretched up to the tips of my toes to peer over the heads of customers in the bar. I spotted Rosie and cupped my hands to my mouth. I called her name, and she glanced up from the table of young guys she was taking orders from. She held her hand up to me to signal she needed a minute, and I untied my apron.

  “Ryan,” I said. “Can you step in for me? Just for tonight. I know you have shit to do, but I need someone to hold down the fort while I deal with Brett and—”

  “Jo, just go. It’s fine. I’ve got this.” Ryan sank his hand in his pocket and pulled out his car keys. He pressed them into my hand.

  “Thank you,” I breathed. Then I locked eyes with Zach, and guilt fluttered in my chest. “I’m sorry,” I said again, and then I hurried out from behind the bar, where Rosie met me.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked, her eyes full of concern.

  I grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the bar with me. “I need you to come with me. There’s something I need to do, and it might get messy. I need you to take Sam for the rest of the day.”

  “Okay. No problem. Slow down, Jo, I’m wearing heels for fuck’s sake.” She half ran, half stumbled along behind me as we blew out the front doors and down the steps.

  I spotted Ryan’s black Challenger and rushed toward it. Rosie rushed around the hood, heels clicking on the pavement, and slid into the passenger seat as I unlocked the doors.

  “What the hell is going on?” she asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

  “I’m kicking Brett out.”

  Rosie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? What did he do? Is Sam okay?”

  “Sam’s fine, thanks to Ryan. But I can’t let this keep going. He’s going to hurt my son. Or me. Or someone else. I should have done this a long time ago.”

  I put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking space. Rosie reached over and put her hand over mine as I pushed the shifter into first. “It’s okay. You’re doing it now. And you have all of us behind you.”

  I blinked furiously as tears started to burn my eyes. Damn my fucking emotions. This was not the time to cry.

  I shifted into second and then quickly to third and fourth as I put my foot down on the gas and tore out onto the main street. “Fuck him.”

  Rosie squeezed my hand. “Hey. It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not,” I spat. “It’s my job as his mother to protect him. And I let that bastard sleep in my bed for three years. Enough is enough.”

  “Jo—”

  “I’m going to show him he fucked with the wrong woman.” That ferocious lioness inside me was roaring to escape, and it felt fucking good. I felt powerful, just like I used to. My blood was pounding in my ears. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. “Don’t worry, Rosie. I’ve got this. You just take Sam out of there when I bring him out to you. You can drive stick, right?”

  Rosie shrugged. “I can. Not very well, but I can.”

  “Don’t go far then. I’ll call you when you can come back.”

  “Okay,” Rosie said. She sounded scared.

  I looked over at my friend. My tears had vanished as quickly as they appeared. “Hey. Don’t worry. I can handle this. I’ve dealt with much worse before. Brett is nothing.”

  Rosie bit her bottom lip but nodded. “Okay.”

  I fixed my glare on the open stretch of road before me. It took all my self-restraint not to press my foot down flat on the gas. Fury coursed through my veins and settled in my chest where it burned with a vicious heat.

  “He’s nothing,” I whispered.

  17

  Zach

  A son. Jo had a son.

  Was he Brett’s?

  “What the Hell?” I breathed as I raked my fingers through my hair. I had so many questions, and she’d bolted out the door before I even had a chance to give voice to any of them. The way she’d looked at me when I asked who Sam was reminded me of a deer in the headlights. Big eyes, parted lips, panic.

  Ryan was pouring beers and mixing drinks behind the bar with ease, and every few minutes, his eyes shot over to me. His expression was grim, and I could tell he was far past pissed.

  When he finally came to stand in front of me, he tossed a towel over his shoulder and leaned forward, resting on his elbows. “I’m sure she was going to tell you. I didn’t say anything because it wasn’t my news to share.”

  “Yeah, I get it,” I said. “It’s all good, man.”

  Ryan ran his hand over his mouth and scratched his jaw. “Sam is a good kid. I’m sure you’d like him if you ever get a chance to meet him. Really smart, kind of a dork.” Ryan chuckled. “He loves science stuff. Makes me feel like an idiot sometimes.”

  “How old is he?”

  “He’ll be five in a few months.”

  Five?

  I tried to conceal my shock by finishing the rest of the water in my glass. What were the odds that the kid just happened to be shy of five? Jo and I had hooked up five years ago, plus a couple of months. The timing was too close to overlook.

  Ryan sighed. “I hate that it had to come to this. Jo deserves better. So does Sam. Brett is such a piece of shit.”

  “What did he do?” I asked. I had only heard snippets of their conversation. Jo and Ryan had talked in hushed tones to avoid being overheard by the customers—and that included me. “If it’s too personal, I don’t need to know. Just curious, is all.”

  “Nah. It’s fine. I take Sam on Thursday nights, and he sleeps over. Brett or Jo always picks him up in the afternoon. Brett showed up at my place drunk as a skunk and tried to take Sam in the truck with him. I didn’t let that happen.”

  “Has he pulled shit like that before?”

  “Not that I’m aware of, but it’s Jo’s relationship. The way she reacted makes me think this is the worst it’s ever gotten. I find it hard to believe she’d put up with his shit if he’d done this kind of thing before. There’s nothing more precious to her than Sam. She’s had a hard go of things with him, and everything is finally calming down.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Ryan shrugged. “The kid has had some issues. Allergic reactions, asthma, panic attacks, that sort of thing. It’s taken Jo some time to get him to a place where the two of them can deal with his episodes when they occur. He’s getting better. The asthma leads into panic attacks, though, and sometimes that’s hard for a mom to handle, you know? Scares her, I think.”

  “I can imagine,” I said.

  “And Brett isn’t the best with that kind of thing. He thinks Sam is a weakling. He’s said it on more than one occasion.”

  “He’s a real piece of shit, huh?”

  Ryan nodded. “I’m hoping this is the end of it. I haven’t seen Jo that pissed in a long time. I think
she’ll kick him out. At least, I hope she will. It’s been hard holding my tongue about the whole thing. Rosie’s been having a hard time keeping her mouth shut, too. We both want Jo to get away from him.”

  “Why has she bothered staying?”

  “Beats me,” Ryan said. “She says he’s not the same when it’s just the two of them. She says he’s good with Sam. And he is. I’ve seen it. But it’s not good enough to justify being miserable. She doesn’t love him, and he doesn’t love her. He just likes to have power over someone.” Ryan tipped his head to the side. “I have to fill these orders. You want anything while I’m at it?”

  “No, I’m all right.”

  Ryan went off down the bar to work, leaving me stewing in angry thoughts about Jo confronting the drunken bastard who had attempted to put her son’s life at risk.

  I couldn’t understand how a fierce girl like her could let a waste of space like Brett consume her life. The woman I danced with—the one who stood her ground and practically told Ghoul to go fuck himself after he wouldn’t take no for an answer—would have made short work of Brett once he showed his true colors.

  But she hadn’t. She’d let him stay.

  I rubbed my forehead, confused and overwhelmed. Not only was I confounded by the situation with Brett, but I was caught off guard with the news about her having a son. A son who might very well be mine.

  Or not.

  I tried to tell myself how ridiculous it was to jump to such extreme conclusions. If Jo knew the kid was yours, she would have told you. And how egotistical do you have to be to think you were the only one she’d been with in that timeframe?

  I raked my fingers through my hair and blew out an exasperated breath. She had probably been with other guys around the same time that she and I hooked up. I’d been with other women. Sam was probably some other guy’s kid. Someone Jo apparently didn’t want involved in the kid’s life.

  Or she didn’t want me involved. That was a sobering thought. Had our night really meant nothing to her?